


Care to Join Me in My Tent?

by agaybloodmage



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: M/M, oof i'm finally uploading shit here, so many old fics....... must be uploaded for the sake of archive..... gross
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-21 03:17:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17635016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agaybloodmage/pseuds/agaybloodmage
Summary: Written For ZevWarden week 2017!The massage scene. With my Warden. Very self-explanatory.





	Care to Join Me in My Tent?

“Care to join me in my tent?”

“Why? Is there something in this tent of yours that needs assassinating?”

Redren gave Zevran a long look that was just short of a glare.

“Not unless you count this horrid ache in my back,” he groaned. “You mentioned that you knew massage techniques, and while I’m certain you had other things in mind, I’m curious as to if you were lying or not.”

“Me?” Zevran gasped, feigning hurt. “I cannot believe you could accuse me of being a  _liar!”_ He smiled at his lines. “An assassin is nothing but a noble and honest profession!”

“Ha ha,” Redren said, “very funny. But I wasn’t joking, I really _am_ wondering if you were serious when you mentioned you knew how to give a good massage.” Redren was quite serious, as he’s been working up the nerve to ask for quite a few days now, only giving in to himself when he felt like his back was pulled in two fighting Darkspawn earlier in the day.

“No liar am I, my dear Warden,” Zevran grinned, placing a hand on Redren’s shoulder. “If you truly wish to be blessed by my fingers, I am happy to oblige.”

“Ah, thank yo-”

“But if things happen to go further than a massage?” He was smirking now, obviously pleased at how Redren’s face lit up in embarrassment.

“Zevran!” He whispered, trying to keep the other members of their little party from overhearing. “And I doubt that things will go that far!”

“Oh, you’ve hurt me,” Zevran sighed dramatically. “Why say such cruel things?”

“Because I won’t simply sleep with you, no matter how attractive you are!” His voice was still a harsh whisper as he grabbed Zevran’s arm and pulled him into his tent.

“You find me attractive, do you?” Zevran asked, a smug little smirk on his face.

“That was- it, it’s just an observation!” Redren tried to defend his statement, even though the pink on his cheeks said something else.

“Very well, very well,” Zevran said, giving in. “But I’m going to ask you to remove those robes of yours, or else this massage won’t be as useful as it could be.”

Redren felt himself follow quite willingly, his hands undoing the thick brown ribbon that held his robe together, letting his deep red clothing slip off. He was pale as a corpse, a stark contrast to Zevran’s deep Antivan tan. He calmed the blood in his cheeks, taking deep breaths, trying to relax. No sense to tense up during a massage.

“You know,” Zevran said, breaking the silence, “you actually have quite the nice body, my Warden.” His eyes panned up and down, watching the lean muscles of Redren’s figure twitch as the mage tried to suppress his embarrassment.

“Alright, alright,” Redren sighed. “Please just get on with it? I’m not as comfortable being so, well, naked around other people as you are, I’ll have you know.”

“Of course, of course,” Zevran apologized. “And please, let me know if you get uncomfortable during anything.” His tone was sincere, unlike anything Redren had heard from him before. It was, well, sweet. “I want this to be pleasurable for you, my Warden.” The smirk returned.

“Of course,” Redren said, shifting slightly. “And, you don’t always have to call me ‘My Warden,’ or ‘Grey Warden,’ or anything like that all the time. Redren’s just fine.”

“Of course, Redren,” he smiled, and just hearing Zevran say his name was like breathing on the embers resting in his abdomen. If it was obvious, he was glad Zevran didn’t say anything.

“Soooo,” Redren started. “What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, yes,” Zevran shook his head a bit, blond hair shaking. “Just let me grab the oils I keep in my bag.” He turned around, grabbing for the little sack he usually kept on his belt that he must have set down when they got into the tent. Both fortunately and unfortunately for Redren, this meant he got a fairly good view of Zevran’s undergarments as he got on his hands and knees to crawl the short distance to the little bag. Redren could swear he was doing this on purpose.

“Do you always keep oils in your bag?” Redren asked, trying to get his mind off of the fact that the very top of Zevran’s legs were just as tanned as the rest of him, no tan line in sight.

“Of course, my dearest Redren,” he purred, turning around to look Redren in the eyes. “For a dry hand is never much fun!”

Redren felt his face heat at the dirty comment, laughing in embarrassment and lightly shoving Zevran’s armored chest. “You’re such a pervert!” He said, only half-joking.

“I prefer the term, seducer, my dear,” he laughed. “And I don’t find it fair that you get to be so  _free_  and yet I remain fully clothed!”

“Just keep your bloody unmentionables on,” Redren murmured, averting his eyes as Zevran undid the many straps on his soft leather armor. The sound of the leather sliding off sent shivers down his back, and the smell of the material and sweat was surprisingly pleasant.

“Ah, freedom!” Zevran laughed, and Redren turned back around to see Zevran, with only his undergarments on.

“Okay, can we  _please_  just get to the point here?” Redren asked, throwing Zevran a light glare.

“Alright, alright, so eager!” Zevran said, popping open the little bottle of oil. “Now,” he started, pouring a good amount of the substance onto his hands, “lie on your stomach.”

Redren did as he was told, folding his arms beneath his head. He let out a bit of a squeak when he felt Zevran’s hips rest on his ass, as the elf took his position.

“Now now, just relax,” Zevran said, and even though Redren wasn’t looking at him, he knew there was a smirk on his face. Redren let out a breath, allowing himself to relax a bit. He felt two warm hands press on his shoulders, and let out a content sigh as he felt the heel of Zevran’s hands push downward, into the tense muscles. Redren could feel the hands work into his back, gentle yet harsh. He hardly felt time go by, the only noise being the soft moans of pleasure that escaped Redren’s lips, and the steady breathing coming from Zevran. When Zevran moved his hands down to Redren’s shoulder blades, he finally spoke.

“You are, surprisingly tense, my dear,” he commented, his voice low. “If I didn’t know you could handle yourself, I’d say I was quite concerned.”

“Well, I suppose carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders tends to lead to back pain!” Redren wasn’t really joking.

“Very funny,” Zevran replied, pressing his fingers into the groves around Redren’s shoulder blades. “But really, if you were feeling so badly, why didn’t you come to me sooner?” If Redren didn’t know any better, he’d think that the question implied that Zevran was truly concerned about the mage’s health.

“If you want me to be honest, I guess I was nervous,” Redren admitted. “I wasn’t sure if-” he let out a pleased groan as Zevran worked on a knot below his right shoulder. “- If you were going to take me seriously, or if you were serious about these 'Antivan whorehouse massages,’ at all.” He wasn’t exactly sure why he was offering up all this information, but he let it spill anyway. “I figured that maybe, you know, you were just looking for a way to get into my robes, so I wasn’t too ready to risk looking like a naive fool.”

“I see,” Zevran commented, letting his hips roll against Redren’s as he worked. “And would it be so bad if I _was_  trying to, as you put it, 'get into your robes’?”

“Uh,” Redren faltered, and Zevran responded with a chuckle.

“No more words are needed, the twitch in these muscles of yours have told me all I need to know, my dear Redren!”

Redren’s face was slightly heated, but he didn’t respond, deciding not to complicate things. The feeling of Zevran’s hands on his back were too good to ruin with talk of sex. Not to say that he wouldn’t want to think of such things at  _all,_  just not now, when Zevran’s oil-coated hands were melting away tension better than any other intimacy. As the quiet went on, Redren couldn’t help but wonder how many other people had been in the same position as him, with Zevran’s muscled legs hugging their hips and his hands pressing down on their naked back.  _Did Zevran get this intimate with his targets? Likely not,_  he rationalized,  _seeing as how he was an assassin, and couldn’t afford to waste such time. But he’s so good at this, he must’ve had practice…_

“You alright there?” Zevran asked, pausing for a moment. “You tensed up, and your lovely face is in a pout.”

_Just getting a bit jealous of people that may or may not exist because they were with a man that certainty isn’t and won’t be mine!_

“Sorry,” he said, letting out a sigh. “You’re not doing anything wrong, but I can’t help but feel awkward, I’ve never been with anyone-” he paused, swallowing. “- like  _this.”_

Zevran was quiet for a moment until he responded. “If I can be completely honest here, I didn’t expect that,” He laughed quietly. “You’re attractive, no? And being raised in such close quarters in that Circle of yours-”

“Zevran,” Redren sighed, “there is no way that anything like that would’ve happened to me. I’m not exactly attractive, I’m rude, I’m anti-social, and not to mention, the only person I ever really got close to had a girlfriend!” He was actually  _amused_  that Zevran could’ve thought he was experienced with  _anything._

“Oh.” Zevran went back to working out the knots in Redren’s back. He didn’t say anything, but Redren could feel that he was being slightly more gentle, focusing more on his upper back than his lower.

“Zevran, I’ve drunk Darkspawn blood before, I’m not going to break if you press hard on my _oh so innocent_ back!” Redren laughed at this, the idea that Zevran was being careful with him both frustrating as well as  _very_  welcome.

“Ah, yes, my apologies,” Zevran chuckled, putting pressure down, making Redren hiss slightly. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant. “If you believed I was being delicate with you, I assure you I was simply thrown off by the knowledge you’re so innocent!”

“Zevran, I’ve murdered people.”

“Yes, good point, that.”

They both laughed, and Redren couldn’t help but wish this experience would never end.

Once again they both fell silent, and Redren even began to feel his eyes start to get heavy.

“Redren,” Zevran said, amused. “If you’re getting tired, don’t feel like you have to stay awake.” Redren didn’t respond, but he let his eyes close, not even opening them when Zevran’s hips shifted back, and his hands worked their way down to the small of his back. The feeling of another man’s bulge pressed against his own was strange, but  _certainly_ not unwelcome.

He wasn’t sure exactly when he fell asleep, but he woke up the next morning alone, nearly naked, and hopelessly relaxed. He stood, rolling off the wolf pelts he slept on, and put on his robe. Walking outside, he noticed Leliana, Alistair, Wynne, and Zevran already up and eating by the fire. When he sat down, taking his usual spot between Leliana and Zevran, he noticed his companions varying looks out of the corners of his eyes. Leliana looked very amused, Alistair’s cheeks were pink, Wynne just looked tired, and Zevran had a very satisfied grin on his face.

Redren spoke up. “What’re you all thinking about?”

**Author's Note:**

> owo what's this?? Me?? On ao3??   
> Disclaimer that this isn't exactly canon with my OC, and was written quick for an event back in 2017! Not that anyone actually cares about my own personal OC-canon lol  
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed!


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